


Mr. Brightside

by Scratchet



Category: Original Work, The Killers (Band)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Based on a The Killers song, Best Friends, Brendon Flower, Crushes, F/M, Feelings Realization, Friendship, Heartache, Heartbreak, Inspired by Real Events, Love Confessions, Male-Female Friendship, Mr Brightside, One Shot, Possibly Unrequited Love, Real Life, Short One Shot, Short Story, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, song: Mr Brightside, true story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 01:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16357826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scratchet/pseuds/Scratchet
Summary: Now they're going to bedAnd my stomach is sickAnd it's all in my headBut she's touching his chestNow, he takes off her dressNow, letting me go





	Mr. Brightside

The C Major chord progression of  _Mr Brightside_ echoes around my studio apartment, my heart stinking and pulling in my chest. I watch him smile from the blow-up mattress on my floor conning our friend’s name, the sight envious to my sad eyes. To him The Killers’ song about an encounter with an ex-lover reminded him of nights working on the bar with our mutual friend Crystal. It was decorating his mind of memories of the two of them laughing and having long night discussions in an empty country Inn pub.

For a moment a small smile spreads on my face thinking of Crystal. Thinking of her smile and snicker of a giggle. About our own deep late-night talks that was usually over a bottle of Kraken Black Spiced Rum. That or over a cigarette we stole from one of our passed out friends. The smile spreads half listening to him reminiscing about our day trips the three of us and some of our friends did around Britain. Where we drank new beers and found new places and experiences we could remember forever. Memories we could talk to each other about making our heart long for the times we had the time to get lost.

Fuck, how I’d give anything to have her with us right now, to have her and my other friend’s adventures as my first thought when Brendan Flowers sang about seeing his ex kiss another man.

No, a cold closet room with my mascara tears on the, “pillow” under my head was my first memory. It was mixed with the sounds of pleasure echoing faintly in through the walls, the songs blasting through my earphones not nearly as loud as the sounds they were making in the next room.

**_He’s having sex with another girl in the next room and I can hear everything._**

**_What? What an asshole. Can you leave?_ **

**_Get out of there. Go somewhere else._ **

I should’ve got out of there. I should’ve ran like my Mother and Willa, my life long best friend, had told me to. Yet I stayed because I was in a European town I didn’t know and well…

Because I thought I meant more.

He’ll tell me he likes me, he’s been hinting for the past month, I still thought as I heard the other girls bed frame hitting her wall in the other room.  I reminded myself of the Good morning messages and selfies he took while on vacation with his friends. Thinking of when we spoke for the whole day sharing our favourite songs that were intimate to one another. How he made me laugh the only way he could. How he looked at me with a lazy adoring smile and listened to everything I had to say. How he seemed to be always touching me whether it was with our knees or how when we walked we bumped into each other.

Ugh, fucking hell, I was so naïve. So scared of rejection and to be brave because of past hurtful words, I never told him bluntly. And I still haven’t because I’m still naïvely in a teenage girl’s dream of the hot boy telling the chubby girl obsessed with pop culture he thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

My unfocused eyes found his handsome Clark Kent smile speaking to my unlistening ears again.

The man who broke my heart was on my studio apartment floor. The only man to break my heart so much in my short existence it had scattered. The man who stupidly still held my affections and interest.

Maybe, this time will be different, I thought peering at his smile as he spoke that was as soft as his warm brown eyes. Maybe he came to Australia to see me, just me, my fantasies whispered in my ear. With her casting a view of him embracing me, the soft smile noise I loved just above as he brushed a curl out of my face.

I cleared my throat forcing a smile and the thought out as he laughed in real life at story he was telling me. I can’t do this to myself again. I listen to him talking once more reminding myself to be happy to have my friend who lives overseas here. Forcing myself to forget how I would do anything for the man on the blow-up mattress and how much I believed I loved him on an intimate level.  Because realistically, as much I hated to admit to myself and others, I’m only infatuated deeply to him by how pleasing he is to my senses.

I needed to start preparing myself for how much my heart would once again break into pieces in two weeks. Like I had the day after that night I heard him, putting light make-up on to remind myself not cry. Forcing myself to focus on how tired I was from all the travelling. Now it was thinking of other things like the driving test I had the day after he left and how to do the things I was doing in my new job.

I also knew I needed to make myself stay in the present and to have fun with him. Focus on the happiness I was feeling and to show him the city I called home, to make him love the great southern prisoner island as much as I did.

I needed to enjoy spending time with one of best friends. My only close straight cis male friend who stuck around me even after seeing me crying and screaming in my anxiety. He stuck around and spoke to me on days where he was working either to make me feel better or because he missed me. He was here and I had to remember how many days I ached for someone, anyone from that part of the world I missed desperately to see me. For the next couple of weeks I was lucky enough to get my wish. 

Even though my heart ached and I wished for something different and more I had to stop listening to sick lullabies and open up my eager eyes to the current bright sides.

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a cleansing story for me to move on.
> 
> The events the main character discusses is something I actually went through late November last year. Of course I've obliviously changed names and been vague about locations to protect myself and others from unwanted drama and awkward conversations.
> 
> If you like it, please let me know.


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